Balefire

by Barrett

  Silke jumped a little. “You know, it would be so much easier on my heart if you approached from the front.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, I just forget. I really will try to be more considerate. How was breakfast?” Diane pulled out a chair and joined them.

  “Superb. Your team does a wonderful job. Everything tastes so fresh.” Kirin wiped her mouth and folded her napkin.

  “Thank you. I will pass on your compliments. I have to admit I’m proud of our staff, and they’re very loyal. So what do you two have planned for today?”

  “Nothing special,” Silke said.

  Kirin leaned in. Silke noted her persona switched to gracious guest. “I was going to work on my notes and photographs. I’d like to setup a time to talk with you and Mark.”

  “Today is crazy with deliveries, and we have to set up for a wedding tomorrow. Let me check with Mark.” Diane tapped her chin with her finger. “I have an idea. Since this is your first visit, Kirin, why don’t you both take our ATV into San Pedro? Silke can point out some of the highlights.”

  Kirin shrugged. “That sounds like fun. What do you think?”

  Silke hesitated. She did want to go shopping, but knew she couldn’t go by herself. It had never occurred to her that Kirin might want to join her, and since they’d have a ride, she wouldn’t have to navigate the uneven streets and pedestrians. “I think it sounds great. I’m game.”

  MARK REVIEWED THE instructions for the Kawasaki four passenger ATV. He sounded serious but then smiled. “Kirin, I’m entrusting Big Bertha to you because I don’t trust Silke behind the wheel. She gets reckless and . . .”

  “Mark, that was not my fault,” Silke said. “That alligator came out of nowhere.”

  Kirin snapped her head around. “Alligator?”

  Silke laughed. “A very rare occurrence, I assure you. Come on. Why don’t we practice by driving over to the condo so you won’t be nervous.”

  It didn’t take long to gather a few things. Credit card, a hat, sunglasses, and some bug spray at Silke’s suggestion.

  The narrow path behind the resort wound in and around palm trees and mangroves. The recent storm had left large swaths of standing water and mud. Kirin had initially assumed they would be taking a small lightweight golf cart. Now she was glad Mark had the foresight to buy an ATV.

  “This route has more traffic when the rainy season ends. It’s slow going compared to traveling by boat, but there’s no hurry.”

  “Right.” Kirin was concentrating on the dips and turns in the road but the revelation Silke made the night before was lurking in the back of her mind. What kind of accident could cause that kind of serious injury? She glanced at her. Silke held the handgrip on the roll bar and leaned back on the headrest. A picture of calm. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Silke turned slightly. “Sure, as long as you know you can’t ask me to drive.” Dappled sunlight accentuated the freckles on her face.

  “I promise not to. I was wondering about the accident you talked about last night. Is that too personal?”

  They hit a bump and bounced off the seat. They looked at each other and laughed.

  “Not really. I mean, considering what we’ve been through already, I consider you a friend.” Silke lowered her head for a moment. “My partner and I have had some difficulty the last two years. It’s complicated. We just seem to be going in two different directions and neither one of us has the guts to talk about it. Several months ago, after another one of our interminable arguments . . . something shifted. It was partially my fault for taunting her. She was frustrated and . . . we started shoving. And . . . she started to choke me, and I passed out.”

  Kirin slowed the ATV down, the hair on her neck prickled with a warning. This wasn’t the explanation she’d expected. “Go on.”

  “Rachel called 911 right away, and after some tests, they kept me in the hospital overnight for observation. The police came. It was ugly and embarrassing, but I didn’t press charges. I couldn’t. Everyone was mad at me, but . . . Rachel was horrified and hated herself. She apologized and has walked on eggshells for months. The bickering has started to heat up again.”

  “I’m so sorry. Will your sight get better?”

  “I don’t know. The doctor said I have a seventy percent chance of regaining my vision.”

  Kirin wrestled with mixed emotions of anger, sadness, concern, and disbelief. Heaven knows she and Melissa had some whoppers before they separated, but she never, ever would’ve laid a hand on her. It just wasn’t in her. How could anyone do something so horrible?

  The cart hit several deep puddles. They bounced from one to the next with mud splattering everywhere. They squealed and then giggled.

  Kirin couldn’t avoid them, and slowing down didn’t seem to help. So why not relax? The path finally widened and dried out, and she turned on the windshield wipers. Everything was a mess, including the two of them.

  Silke put her hand on Kirin’s arm. “Thank you for asking. I know it’s awkward, and I’m sure you were curious. It’s just hard to talk about because I’m so ashamed. I never should have let it get so far. Diane is furious with me for not leaving her.” She sniffed.

  Kirin wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Do you want to leave her?”

  “I guess I do. It’s just that . . . well, we’ve been together for a long time, and it’s hard to give up,” Silke said. “Why don’t we talk about you for a change?”

  Kirin thought about how to transition the conversation now that the path was less treacherous. She smiled. “Well, oddly enough, I dealt with a very physical relationship as well.”

  “No kidding. Small world I guess.”

  “Back in my carefree youth, I had my share of one-night stands, but Melissa was different. We really hit it off. One night of lusty hot sex after a chance meeting at a fundraiser turned into three years of bickering, cajoling and . . . more hot sex.” She shook her head and patted her chest. “Yes, it became unpleasant. My abusive ex is a nymphomaniac—that’s the difference.” She hoped the humor helped. “I guess I should say was. We didn’t last long as a couple, but she’s still a good friend. It was all very exciting at the beginning, and then it was just exhausting.” She released an overly dramatic sigh.

  Silke giggled and then laughed and then tears ran down her face. Kirin couldn’t help herself and laughed, too. In hindsight, it really was funny. Although she doubted Melissa would see the humor. She finally stopped the ATV because she couldn’t drive while convulsed with laughter.

  After several minutes, Silke took a deep breath and sighed. “Oh my God. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard . . . I mean it’s not that funny. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but the analogy was so good.” She giggled again. “I guess abuse is abuse.”

  They laughed again.

  Kirin drove through a small neighborhood. The houses were a little more than shacks, more like shanties. Some of them were perched right on the water’s edge on stilts. “It looks like we’ve come to the end of the island. Did I miss a turn off?”

  Silke leaned forward and pointed to a narrow concrete bridge spanning the shallow water. “No, this is the hand-ferry road to cross into San Pedro. When I first came here, the small ferry was manned by two men and ropes. There wasn’t as much vehicle traffic, but many of the people who live north come down to San Pedro to work.”

  One by one, vehicles, golf carts, and small delivery trucks took turns crossing the bridge. A northbound pair of golf carts passed and then it was their turn.

  “They built this bridge just a few years ago to accommodate more vehicles,” Silke said. “Since Diane and Mark first took over the resort, dozens of new buildings have been constructed on the north end of the caye. Most of them are private homes, but there are several high-end resorts as well.”

  Kirin followed Silke’s directions into San Pedro. She suggested they make one pass through town and follow the shoreline south of the airfield, then circle back for a walking tour. As they navigated th
e surprisingly crowded streets, Silke pointed out a few better-known landmarks, which included the grammar school, a couple of churches, two banks, and dozens of small businesses.

  The narrow downtown area bustled with bicycles and foot traffic. Dozens of golf carts boasting signs from two major rental companies inched slowly down one of the three main streets. It was hotter and more humid without the offshore breezes. Kirin saw a few taxicabs that looked like the older model Toyota van they had taken from the airport.

  The west side of the caye was largely unusable because of mangroves and swamps. Silke directed them back to a place along the beach where they could have lunch.

  Kirin squeezed the ATV behind a golf cart and pocketed the keys. The large opening led into what looked like a hallway. At the end was a good-sized open-air restaurant and bar with a balcony housing a few small shops. An outrigger and several huge, stuffed fish hung from the wooden beams in the vaulted ceiling and thatched roof. It was a festive atmosphere for a midweek afternoon.

  “Welcome to Fido’s. What can I get you ladies?” The waiter smiled.

  Silke glanced at the bar. “I’ll have a Belikin and a menu.”

  “Make it two,” Kirin said.

  The server left with their order.

  “Is that a local brew?” Kirin asked.

  “Yes. We passed the plant on our way back into town. It’s a decent beer, but not one of Milwaukee’s finest.” Silke smiled.

  “I never asked. Are you from Milwaukee?” Kirin draped her arm across the railing.

  “Uh huh. Grew up in Elm Grove—west of Milwaukee. Lived there my whole life.”

  Kirin snapped upright. “Are you serious? I’m from Oconomowoc—even farther west of Milwaukee. Graduated from Madison in ’95.”

  The cold, sweaty beer bottles arrived.

  Silke covered her mouth and laughed. “I can’t believe it. I graduated from Marquette and got my master’s in Madison, ’89.”

  They clinked their beer bottles.

  Kirin slumped back, shaking her head. “I want to hear all about this. What a small world. I can’t believe we didn’t discuss our roots earlier. Guess with all the craziness . . . But let’s order something, because the off-road high jinx gave me an appetite. What’s good?”

  “It’s all good bar-type food. If we plan it right, we might have leftovers to take home.”

  Their table sat against the railing overlooking the narrow beach and the ocean. The main thoroughfare in San Pedro was, apparently, the beachfront. A sampling from all walks of island life paraded past—a real slice of life. Fishermen came to short piers where they tied up their small boats. There were bait shops, dive shops, water taxis, and locals advertising time-shares. Among the tourists walking or cycling along the beach was an assortment of vendors selling wood carvings, Guatemalan fabrics, and a collection of jewelry.

  The variety of commerce taking place on the narrow strip of beach mesmerized Kirin. In spite of all the busyness, the scene was relatively peaceful. There were no motorized vehicles on the beach and boat traffic was intermittent. She particularly liked the lines of uniformed grammar school children walking home from the school two blocks south. Each wore the standard navy blue Catholic school uniform and a variety of brightly colored tiny backpacks.

  Between the beach and the reef a couple of miles out, she could see sailboats and large Bayliner-type speedboats skipping across the waves. Kites, seagulls, and pelicans hovered high above, waiting for the fishermen to return.

  The tell-me-your-story conversation settled into a comfortable exchange packed with coincidence. Kirin couldn’t believe both of them had grown up in southeastern Wisconsin and attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She got her master’s in journalism. Silke earned hers in art history.

  Kirin finished her second beer and sighed. “You know, this is the first time, in a long time, I haven’t been on a deadline. And furthermore, I don’t care. It’s delightful to just sit here and watch the world go by. I’ve almost forgotten I’m supposed to be working.”

  They laughed.

  Kirin envisioned Esther’s grumpy face and stopped laughing. “I suppose I should try one more time to go see the new resort. But you know something? If I can’t . . . it just means I have to come back here.” She winked.

  “Are you still planning to interview Diane and Mark? I know it would mean a lot to them.” Silke propped her feet up and peeled the damp label on the beer bottle with her thumbnail.

  “Absolutely. I’m just waiting for Diane to give me a time they can both break free. I think she said tomorrow morning. I might also take some pictures of the resort for the article. They’ve been so nice, and I want to do right by them. Besides, my editor is really getting two for the price of one. How lucky is she?”

  They decided to walk up the beach.

  “I don’t often come into town when I visit because I’m content to stay at the resort.” Silke switched the cane to her right hand and clasped Kirin’s elbow. “But, this trip I’m on the lookout for some of the native wood carvers. Let me know if you see one. I’m working on a project idea about birds.”

  “This is a nice playground.” Kirin stopped to watch some little kids on swing sets and climbable sculptures of dolphins.

  Silke stepped closer, directly into the path of an oncoming bicyclist. Kirin caught her just before she hit the ground.

  The boy stopped his bike. “I am sorry, lady. I thought you were just standing there . . . I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. I just didn’t see you.” Silke’s voice quavered.

  “She’ll be all right, don’t worry,” Kirin said.

  The young boy nodded and jogged up the beach, pushing his bicycle.

  “Are you hurt?” Kirin asked.

  Silke shook her head. “Just stunned and embarrassed.” She brushed the sand off her leg.

  “I’m afraid his tire scraped your leg pretty good. Let’s sit over there near the fountain so we can wash it off.” Kirin took Silke’s arm and noticed she was trembling. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Silke nodded and bit her lip.

  Kirin pulled a bandanna out of her fanny pack and soaked it in the drinking fountain. She gently sponged the reddened area on the outside of Silke’s knee, which caused her to wince.

  Kirin looked up at her. “I’m sorry. Is there some kind of pharmacy nearby? Should I get some antibiotic ointment or something?”

  “I think I’ll be okay. I have some first aid supplies at the condo. You probably won’t be surprised to know, these accidents happen frequently. It’s just one of the hazards.” Silke’s voice cracked again.

  “It’ll be okay. Let’s get you home.” Kirin offered her hand.

  The ride back was easier now that Kirin knew where she was going and felt a lot more comfortable driving the rugged little vehicle.

  Silke was understandably quiet on the return trip.

  Kirin guessed she was embarrassed. “You know if I’d been on the other side that kid might’ve hit me. I didn’t see him coming either.”

  “You’re sweet.” Silke sighed heavily. “Sometimes it’s just frustrating. This time it was a bicycle, but what if it had been car? I don’t pay attention. I get so complacent or distracted . . . it just makes everything harder. I sometimes think it would be easier if I were totally blind.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Kirin put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it. “I’m so sorry. It must be frustrating.”

  “Thanks. This has been a perfect day and, you have been a good friend. I don’t want to spoil it.” Silke wiped both cheeks and smiled. “Listen, when we get back, I’d be interested in seeing some of the pictures you took on your tour with Kenrick. We never got a chance to talk about it, but you seemed excited.”

  “I still am. The article is going to be a challenge for me,” Kirin said. “I’ll need to bring my A game. For this piece, I really want to create a visual image of the experience, what it was like to see thes
e fragile homes swept away like paper houses. There’s an indefinable tenuousness about living so close to the edge. And yet, the people I talked to are both gentle and steel-cored.”

  “Every year I meet new people and I know what you mean about them. It’s a wonderful combination of Mestizo, Mayan, Garifuna, and Kriol qualities. Everyone I’ve ever encountered has been gracious, helpful, and interested in foreigners. They’re also very proud of their country.” Silke chuckled. “I remember one of my first encounters with a sweet young man who was our waiter. He was finishing up high school and wanted to earn enough to get a college degree to save the inland rain forests.” She stopped smiling. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear American high school students have that kind of passion?”

  Kirin squeezed her hand.